


the 5 times Boyd offers Scott his jacket

by scalira



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, in which Boyd flirts in star wars references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 09:29:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6189175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scalira/pseuds/scalira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>and the one time Scott finally gets it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the 5 times Boyd offers Scott his jacket

> **_Written for:_  **Boyd Rarepair Week Day 2: favorite LGBTQ+ ship  
>  _ **Pairing:**_  Boyd/Scott  
>  ** _Words:_** 3890  
>  _ **Warnings:**_ none _ **  
> Using this for my ‘Boyd x Scott’ square on my[TW bingo card](http://haydensromero.tumblr.com/bingo-card)**_

**i.  
**

It would’ve made more sense if he’d gone to The Force Awakens with Stiles, he _knows_  that, but his best friend had been very passionate about cosplaying and going to the midnight premiere, which would mean standing in line with all those Star Wars fanatics in costumes while he didn’t even know who Jar Jar and who Jabba was.

Scott just wasn’t feeling it, especially because he would have to dress up as Anakin Skywalker (who even _is_  that? Scott had only sat through the original movies, he had been too impatient to watch the prequels) and had to stand next to Malia in a metal bikini. Not that he didn’t like the sight of Malia in bikini, but he wasn’t really looking forward to the Star Wars dudebros drooling all over one of his best friends.

He wasn’t really planning to ever see The Force Awakens, to be honest. But then he saw Boyd watching the movie trailer on his phone in the cafetaria and he could _smell_  how excited he was about it and he was still sitting alone, even after all they’d been through together, and Scott just had to do something.

So he had taken the seat opposite of the bigger boy, not missing the surprised look on his face before he crawled back into his shell, and had suggested they go together.

Boyd had told him he didn’t have to, that he could go alone if Scott didn’t want to go, but Scott wouldn’t hear of it. So when Boyd had agreed to go together with one of his rare, genuine smiles, Scott had rushed home to watch the movies before the next day, when they had planned on going.

Of course it’s painfully obvious Scott isn’t into Star Wars as much as he claims to be, but if Boyd notices, he doesn’t show it.

To be fair, the movie is pretty great. The characters are likable, the plot is exciting to follow, there’s even a shocking death during which Boyd grabs Scott’s leg in shock and gasps loudly. He isn’t complaining. And when they get out of the movie theatre and Boyd has one of those special smiles on his face, Scott thinks this was a pretty good idea.

“Dude, and that scene with all the Stormtroopers where they take Rey!! Holy shit, honestly. Man, Finn had to shoot one of his own, what if they were like - friends? Do you think Stormtroopers have friends? I mean, what’s their backstory?” Boyd rambles and it’s honestly the most Scott has ever heard him talk in one go. He’s impressed.

They’re walking home - Beacon Hills only has one movie theatre and it isn’t too far from either of their homes - and Scott contently listens to Boyd talking. He has a nice voice, soothing. Scott wishes he could hear it more often.

It’s chilly out, late January and late at night. Scott regrets not bringing his coat. Boyd must notice, because he takes his arm to get him to stop walking and shrugs off his jacket.

“Here, take mine,” he says as he hands it to Scott.

“How’d you-”

“Werewolf senses, Scott. Here, take it. I’m too hot anyway.”

“Are you sure?”

Boyd rolls his eyes, something he must’ve picked up from Derek, and urges Scott to just take the jacket. So the shorter boy does, and he smiles gratefully.

The jacket is leather and loose around Scott’s shoulders; it vaguely smells of burned wood and soap and Boyd’s own scent. He digs his hands into the pockets and nuzzles into it a bit.

Boyd continues talking on their walk home, and Scott suspects his flowing mouth has something to do with the dark. It’s always easier to talk when it’s dark out, it’s like the night takes the words, polishes them to take off the sharp edges before letting go of them.

They say goodbye with a smile and a nod, wishing each other a good night and weekend.

It isn’t until Scott’s in his room and undressing that he realizes he’s still wearing Boyd’s jacket.

* * *

 

**ii.**

Beacon Hills is known for its rain. It’s not really that it rains _often,_ it’s just that it rains _a lot_. Sometimes it’s like standing in a shower; it gets you soaked in seconds.

Normally Scott enjoys the rain. He likes the sound of it when he’s bent over his homework, or when he’s daydreaming in bed. But even the biggest rain supporter doesn’t want to get caught in one of Beacon Hills’ famous rainstorms.

It’s the first time in a long time Scott has to wait for the bus. His bike is in the garage, getting its annual check-up, and his mom has to work a late shift tonight, so she can’t pick him up. Of course he could’ve asked Stiles for a ride but he and Malia got detention when they were caught in coach’s office, so they wouldn’t be out of the school for the next two hours. 

It comes out of nowhere, like the rain here tends to do. One minute everything is fine - only a bit cloudy, maybe - but the next it’s like someone turned a lake upside down above Scott’s head.

Of course there’s nowhere to get shelter from the rain, so he just bites his tongue and hides deeper into his jacket.

Suddenly, Scott feels a body next to his and the rain stops. He frowns and looks up, only to see Boyd grinning down at him. He’s holding his own jacket above their heads as an improvised umbrella and has a smug look on his face.

“Boyd, wh-”

“I saw you standing in the rain like a lost puppy,” Boyd shrugs.

“Thought I could give you a hand.”

Scott smiles up at him, grateful for the kindness he knows Boyd tends to hide. He steps closer to Boyd’s warm body, presses his arm against Boyd’s torso.

He’s ducked under Boyd’s extended arm, sheltered from the rain and cold, and he feels surprisingly safe there. Scott remembers when it had been different, when Boyd had been like Derek’s personal, quiet body guard. A lot has changed since then. Derek gave up his alpha status, Cora and Erica left to South America together, and it’s never explicitly said, but Boyd and Isaac are kind of part of Scott’s pack now. Maybe not as official betas, but they’re always part of pack meetings and they listen to Scott when he has to be a real alpha from time to time.

Scott realizes he’s never really thanked them for that, so he takes the opportunity for that now.

“It’s just a jacket, Scott,” Boyd chuckles. Scott nudges him with his shoulder.

“That’s not what I mean. I mean - thanks for the jacket umbrella too, but I meant-” Scott makes a vague gesture, “everything. You know? I’m glad you’re part of my pack now.”

If he hadn’t known better, Scott would say Boyd was blushing.

“Well, yeah. I mean- it felt like the right thing to do. It felt - natural.”

Scott nods.

“Yeah, it did.”

A silence falls between them, then. Scott doesn’t know how he does it, but Boyd can make you feel comfortable even when he’s not saying anything. He’s noticed it before. Even Kira, who’s always rambling and gets uneasy when it’s quiet too long, can just sit with Boyd in silence without getting anxious. Scott appreciates that.

But then Boyd’s phone goes off, and the taller boy gestures for Scott to hold the jacket above his head for a second. He whips out his phone and makes a face at the screen.

“Ah- I totally forgot I was supposed to help Isaac with history. He’s waiting for me in the library.” He jerks his head back to the school.

“I have to go.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for the jacket.”

Scott offers it back, but Boyd glances at the sky - still dark with rain - and to the school.

“Keep it. You’ll have to wait for the bus longer than it takes me to get back into the school.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. It’ll probably have passed when Isaac finally understands the reasons behind World War Two.”

Boyd gives him a quick bump on the shoulder as goodbye and ducks underneath the jacket Scott is still holding over his head. Scott watches the taller boy make a run for the school, and shakes his head with a chuckle. Vernon Boyd is a lot kinder than what people give him credit for.

 

**iii.**

You’d think he’d get used to it. After all, he can’t count the amount of times he’s had someone else’s blood on his clothes on one hand anymore.

But as Stiles wraps his lips around the dying man’s mouth to breathe some life back into him, he sprays warm, human blood over Scott’s face and chest.

The alpha doesn’t get it at first. Where is the blood coming from if Stiles is covering his mouth with his own? But then the man heaves and it sounds like he’s drowning and it makes sense.

“His lungs are punctured,” Scott says.

“He’s choking on his own blood.”

“Well, wh- what can we do? I called an ambulance but he’ll never-”

“He’ll never make it,” Scott finishes. Stiles is right, he can feel it. Life, Scott found out a while ago, can be felt if you focus hard enough. On good days, right before the full moon, Scott can walk through the woods and feel _everything_. He feels the rapid heartbeat of small animals more than he can hear it. He can close his eyes, listen, and point to all the hidden animals in the forest. Sometimes he can even feel the lives of _plants_.

And sometimes he can feel life growing fainter and fainter, until it isn’t there at all anymore.

Scot looks at the man’s twisted face, at the blood on his lips. He had known this man, he had grown up with him. He was one of his mom’s colleages and friends, he often came over with his son as Scott’s playdate.

As Scott holds his hand and tries to take as much pain as he can, he can only think about one thing.

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t remember the man’s name.

“Scott,” Stiles whispers. Then, louder, “Scott!”

Scott looks up, darkness eating at his vision around the sides.

“Let go off his hand, Scott. You’re taking too much.”

“But he’s still- still alive,” Scott mumbles.

“I have to. I have to take his pain.”

And he remembers summer days where he fell off his skateboard and bruised his knee, where the man would put a bandage on the wound, no matter how small it was. He remembers how he would kiss Scott’s forehead when he had an headache and say ‘all better!’ how he woud make his ‘special pancakes’ when Scott and the other boy had been fighting.

He remembers all of this, but not his name.

Stiles tries to pull Scott’s hand out of the hand of the dying man, but Scott remembers and remembers and he can’t let go. The pain keeps coming, and Scott can’t believe how much pain the man must be in.

“Scott, _please_  let go. It’s killing you!” Stiles is pleading now, but the blood on Scott’s face is still warm and fresh and it belongs to someone he knew and he can’t remember his name and he has to do _something._

Scott’s vision is blurring, his own blood pounding in his ears. But the man is still alive and Scott can’t remember his name and all he can do is take and take and take-

Boyd’s big hand wraps around Scott’s wrist. With a movement that almost seems effortless, he seperates Scott’s hand from the man’s and takes his place in holding it.

Boyd groans as his veins turn black and he takes the man’s pain, and finally, _finally_ , after one last heave, the man’s chest stills Boyd lets go off his hand.

Scott scoots away from the body, bile building at the back of his throat. He franctically tries to wipe the blood off his face, but he feels like he’s just smearing it out like some kind of sick war paint.

“Scott,” Boyd says calmly. He walks over to him slowly, like he’s approaching a trapped animal.

“Scott, calm down. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

He kneels in front of him, gently cups his face in his warm hands to make him look at him.

“Do you hear me? Calm down. It’s okay.” He strokes his thumb over Scott’s cheek and for a second he thinks it’s a gesture of affection, but then he realizes Boyd is wiping off the blood before it dries.

“I- I knew him,” Scott stutters.

And then, when Boyd helps him out of his bloodied shirt and takes off his own hoodie to give to Scott and zip it up, Scott keeps repeating it like a mantra.

“His name was Fernando, his name was Fernando, his name was Fernando.”

 

**iv.**

If you’d told Scott he’d be going to an ordinary, very human birthday party a few months ago, he would’ve laughed. He really didn’t have time to think about going to parties when they had just been fighting an alpha pack and a dark kitsune and assassins. But, weirdly, things calmed down after that. Scott finally felt like he could take the time to breathe again.

He knows it’s naive, but he can’t help but think that maybe all the bad guys will finally leave them alone now.

So when they get invited to Danny’s eighteenth birthday party, the pack doesn’t have to think twice about it.

Scott takes a long time to get ready. He’s irrationally nervous and he doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because it’s his first party in ages and he doesn’t want to mess it up, or maybe it’s because he isn’t so sure the bad guys will leave them alone after all.

By the time he thinks he’s finally ready, Stiles has been honking outside for at least five minutes. Scott runs down the stairs, gives his mom a kiss (”mom, werewolves can’t even get- okay, okay, I promise I won’t drink!”) and dives into the Jeep.

“What took you so long, Scottie? I feel like I aged ten years just waiting for you!” Stiles complains as he pulls up and gets onto the road.

Scott rolls his eyes at him and struggles to get his seat belt on. Malia looks over her shoulder and smiles at him.

“Are you excited?” She asks.

“Are you?”

Malia’s smile turns into a grin.

“Yeah, totally! It’s my first party since I turned back, so I don’t know what to expect? Do people really dance on the tables? And do they really have sex in all available bedrooms? Because that just seems rude, even for me. And do they really use red cups for the alcohol, or is that just in the movies?”

Scott and Stiles take their time to answer every question - yes, people actually have sex there, sometimes there’s dancing on tables, Danny isn’t tacky enough to use red cups - and by the time Malia is satisfied by their answers, they’ve arrived at Danny’s and Boyd and Isaac are already waiting for them.

When they approach the two betas, Boyd holds up his hand to stop Scott.

“Hold on, you’re wearing _that_  to the party?” He asks.

Scott looks down onto himself, to his dark hoodie and jeans.

“What’s wrong with this?” He wonders.

“Scott, are you going to a party or to school? Here.” He shrugs offf his own leather jacket and urges Scott to get out of his hoodie.

“Wear my jacket, it looks way cooler.”

“Hey, I like my hoodie!” Scott protests.

“Do you want to make out with hot people tonight or do you want to be asked about the Algebra homework?” Boyd fires back, quirking an eyebrow at the shorter boy.

Scott sighs.

“Make out with hot people,” he confesses.

“Wear the jacket.”

So he does. Scott is starting to get used to how Boyd’s jackets feel around his shoulders, how they drag his torso down just enough to feel nice. His jackets are all pretty heavy and too big for Scott, but he gets positive attention out of it. Girls call him cute and boys call him sexy wearing that ‘boyfriend jacket,’ and sometime during the party he ends up in a trio kiss with a very pretty girl and a very handsome boy.

He feels like he could fight the world and win in this jacket, and he sends a silent thank you to Boyd for offering it to him.

When the party is ending and Scott is getting ready to go home, he goes to find Boyd and hand him the jacket back.

But Boyd is nowhere to be found, and Scott guesses he’s already gone home. So he keeps the jacket and ignores Malia’s face when she smells it in the Jeep, dodges her question when she asks if Boyd and him are dating since he always smells of him.

Instead, he digs his hands into the pockets of the jacket and thinks back to the great trio kiss he shared that night.

And maybe, just maybe, he imagines another pair of lips on his own as he breathes in Boyd’s scent.

 

**v.**

Vernon Boyd doesn’t have a lot of money, Scott knows that. He knows he works his ass off on the rink, but he also knows his parents are struggling at home and that he gives almost his entire income to his mom to buy food and clothes.

So Scott really wasn’t expecting Boyd to have something for his birthday, and that’s okay. He’s just glad Boyd _remembered_  it and showed up to their pack get-together.

They just devoured a few pizzas and watched the first Back To The Future movie when Kira jumps up and says: “Okay, time for presents!”

The pack moves to get their presents and Scott tries to pretend that the gifts aren’t the most important, but all werecreatures in the room can hear his heartbeat when he unwraps the first gift. No matter how old you are, receiving presents will always be fun.

He gets a new helmet, a picture frame with a pack picture in it, fake tattoos (Malia giggles when she sees his face and gives him his real gift - the new Foofighters cd), two tickets for a concert and a book. Then it’s Boyd’s turn, and Scott is surprised to see the box in his hands.

The bigger boy looks shy as he hands Scott the box and avoids eye contact when Scott takes it.

Scott puts the box down and carefully rips the wrapping paper. In the box there’s a jacket, neatly folded and smelling of Boyd.

Scott takes it out and holds it in front of him. It’s one of Boyd’s jackets, jeans with an American flag on one of the biceps. Scott can already tell it’ll be too big for him and he already loves it.

“I- uh, couldn’t afford a new one,” Boyd says. Scott doesn’t like the tone of embarrassement he says it in.

“And I know you like this one - you, uh, always tell me how nice it is when I wear it. So I figured you might... want to have it.”

Scott feels a blush creep up his face as he moves to put on the jacket. To be honest, he always complimented Boyd on the jacket because he looked absoluetely gorgeous in it, especially when he wore his black jeans and heavy boots under it. He reminded Scott of those typical bad boys who ride motor cycles and smoke behind the bleachers and kiss you with their whole body.

But when he feels the familiar weight on his shoulders and Boyd’s scent surrounds him, he doesn’t really care that he won’t see Boyd in the jacket again.

“Thank you, Boyd,” Scott says sincerely.

“It’s nothing,” Boyd shrugs. But Scott can hear his heart beating in his chest, and he feels flattered.

After the gifts, they go back to watching the Back To The Future movies. Scott makes sure he’s sitting next to Boyd, his new jacket pressed against Boyd’s bare arm. Before the second movie starts, Scott looks at the boy next to him, stretches his neck and presses a kiss on his cheek.

This time Boyd is _definitely_ blushing.

 

**+1**

Okay, Scott admits the jacket hoarding got a bit out of hand. He swears he always meant to return them, but he just kept forgetting and putting it off.

But one Saturday afternoon, when he’s cleaning his room, he finds at least five jackets that aren’t his own. So he takes a deep breath, collects Boyd’s jackets and walks to his house to return them.

Boyd opens the door in grey sweats and a black tank top and for one terrifying moment Scott totally forgets why he’s here in the first place, but then he feels the weight of the jackets in his arms and he holds them in front of Boyd.

“I’m returning your jackets!” He states.

Boyd snickers and leans against the door frame.

“I can see that. Why?”

“Wh- well, uh. They aren’t mine. I figured you must be... missing them?” It’s more a question than an answer, but Scott hopes he looks at least a bit confident in his reply.

The taller boy looks him up and down, and Scott prays he isn’t imagining his dark eyes lingering on his lips before they meet his own.

Boyd sucks in his lower lip and chews it as he observes Scott. Scott’s hands are starting to get sweaty, especially when Boyd crosses his arms and flexes his muscles.

“Keep them,” he says eventually.

“They suit you.”

Scott freezes. Wait a minute... he’s sure he’s heard _that_  line before. It takes him a few seconds to figure it out, but then he finally gets it.

It had taken him five jackets and one random link Boyd had sent him a few days ago, linking to an article about how Poe and Finn might be the first canon gay couple in the Star Wars franchise, but he _finally_ gets it.

“Boyd - are you... flirting with - with me?” Scott almost doesn’t ask, almost throws the jackets at his face and walks away because he’s scared he’s wrong and he’s making a fool out of himself, but then Boyd shifts and scratches the back of his neck.

“Wel... maybe. Only if you want me to.”

Scott balances on the tips of his toes and falls back onto the ball of his feet, smiling.

“Yeah, I definitely want you to.”

Boyd raises his eyebrows in surprise, obviously not expecting that answer. But then his hands shoot forward and his fingers curl around the neck of Scott’s jacket - _his_  jacket - and then they’re kissing, Scott being pulled to his toes and Boyd’s hands hot against his neck.

When they part for air, both boys are blushing.

“Do you- do you want to come inside?” Boyd offers, suddenly shy again.

Scott lets out a breathy laugh.

“Definitely,” he smiles.


End file.
